Solid Gold
by Nosferatu's Cigarette Binge
Summary: AU set in FTL. The adventures of Rumpelstiltskin, a 'goblin of the night', who has the ability to set Charming's heart on fire.
1. Ernil

**Disclaimer:** I do not claim any rights to the characters in this story.  
**Dedicated to:** My dearest Jonathan.  
**A/N** Written with the sweetie-peach tweets of Josh Dallas and Mr. Carlyle in mind.

* * *

_Whore or thief young or old, welcome so long you've got the Gold._

* * *

Concealed in a darkened corner outside a factory, Rumpelstiltskin watched as three ungainly lads emerged from smoky vapors in the near distance.  
So intoxicated were the three that, whilst chatting and cackling amongst themselves, they appeared to weakly ride the wave of intoxicants flowing through their marred veins. Opium, mixed with the many other poisons, abetted the alcohol and followed them in a hovering shadow; like a milky ghost pleading for their return to the licentious den they'd just vacated.

Thinking them idea targets, Rumpelstiltskin exited the shadows and posed in such a way to entice them to his wares. One from the degenerate gang took notice, a tall, dark thing, who in the covering of half his face, began to cough as he stared at the whore in revulsion.

The source of the viewer's disapproval disregarded the actions of the lad, and lasciviously beckoned to him with the curling of one finger and the baring of his uneven, brown teeth. "For but 3 coins -" he showily pinched his forefinger and thumb together, as if holding an invisible coin, and then, with the same hand, swiftly framed his lower anatomy, "- a heaven of Gold can be yours."

The men scoffed and hastened their pace. Rumpelstiltskin waved them off, spitting on the ground where once they had stood.

Tiring of the dank location and lack of business, Gold gathered his carpet-bag and walked into the mist. Passing an undesirable area by a bridge, he detected the sound of feet treading cobblestones nearby, but thought nothing of it. The area was busy, after all.  
As he progressed the streets, the same sound of shoes hitting stones moved in accordance with his own feet. Feeling cheeky, Rumpelstiltskin increased pace until, on the very tips of his toes, he sprinted; arms flaying wildly in the wind.

He stopped, just as quickly as he had begun and, full of whimsy, spun around to smash into whoever was trailing him - which luckily happened to be a tall, good-looking young man.

"Ooh, what a lovely trinket to chance upon," Rumple giggled, falling to the ground.

The man, who had landed on top of Rumpelstiltskin, looked him over, his mouth rudely agape. Catching his wits he began to fumble, raising slowly to his feet.

"Why were you following me?" Gold flirtatiously asked, his eyes aglow and a crooked smile playing on his lips.

The lad, in shame, looked to the ground. "I heard the offer you made those men and..."

"And what dear?" Gold softly asked, creeping forward and taking hold of the man's chin with two fingers, his copper eyes shifting as he appreciatively looked the blond over.

"I-I wondered if the same offer could extend to one such as I." His voice and demeanor were timid, and he acted as though he was battling with his conscience.

"Of course it does! Silly thing." Gold laughed and playfully smacked the man's hand. "But... something tells me that you haven't done this sort of thing before." With the last word he bit into his tongue in order to suppress his giddiness.

"Oh, well-"

"Na-na-eh, speak no further." Gold clicked his teeth and placed his fingers to his lips. "Just follow me... and I'll teach ya good. With me you shall discover sensations you have-a never known before." He grandly raised his hand to the sky as if painting the stars.

Finding the future full of promise, the young man decided to silence his inner demons and let the one, walking so grandly before him, work his magic.

Fighting their way through the crowded streets, Gold led the fellow to a small room whose outer appearance was that of an ivy covered cellar. "After you, dearie," Gold said, pulling the latch.

Rumpelstiltskin hurriedly shut the door after the young man; leaning against its wooden brace as he smiled deliriously. _Business.  
_ The room was very dark, lit by only a few candles and the faint glow of a solitary window. It was also relatively bare, save for a large bed in the middle, a chair and a water basin on a chest.

After a few minutes of silence the prostitute proceeded forward in halting steps. "What am I supposed to call you?" His eyes darted callously from the blankets beneath his touch to the blue eyes of the man who nervously watched his movements.

"David. David Nol-" He stopped himself from revealing the full name of Nolan. "Norfolk"

"Norfolk, hmmm, interesting," Rumple said in a low voice, walking towards him. Extending his hand, palm first, he looked to the client. It took David a few seconds to catch on. When finally he did, he searched through his jacket and produced a small pouch of coins.

"T-t-thanks," Gold hissed, cupping the pouch to his speckled bosom. "Now, _David,_ I am wholly at your service." He bowed, raised quickly and tore the handkerchief from around his neck and began to hastefully work with the buttons trailing down the front of his coat.

"Wait, you didn't give me your name," David said, stopping him before he undressed any further.

"The name's Gold," he said as his gaze moved from the buttons between his fingers to the man, "but my friends call me 'Solid'." He licked the tips of his upper teeth. "And you, sugar, tee-hee, are about to find out why."


	2. Laurë

_The morning hour hath Gold in its mouth. _

* * *

Rumpelstiltskin found several days later a sealed message slid under his door. After pursuing it for the inordinate amount of time required to decipher its wretched handwriting, he discovered that it was from one of his conquests, "Mr. Norfolk". He wanted to meet again, only this time he made it - ever so politely - clear that he would not again risk the chance of being seen entering a prostitute's den. No, they were to 'find' each other at a small boat house at the edge of the Linhir river.

The letter was so soaked in the man's arrogance Rumpelstiltskin could taste it, and, without his knowledge, he had absorbed a teaspoon of this overconfidence with the mere removal the note from its envelope.

This Nolan boy believed, he, _Rumpelstiltskin,_ was so ignorant he could not tell the prince from a common street urchin. Gods, what a miserable creature the little minx had turned out to be. Oh, mark his words, he'd meet him. If for no other reason then to amuse himself, for there was undoubtedly much to gain from the weakness of the prince's neither regions.

* * *

Rumpelstiltskin walked in the shadows of buildings on the way to his scarlet rendezvous, lightly caressing - with the tips of fingers the cool pools of black hovering against the walls, leaving them shivering in his wake.

Once free from the town, and nearly into the heart of the woods, he encountered another woman possessing of magic. A potion maker by the name of Regina Mills, or Queenie as she was often called. She was seated on a long flight of rickety steps leading up to her decrepit house at the top of the hill. Wearing a long, dark brocaded dress she stood out like a onyx mirage amid the heightened emeralds of the forest surrounding her. "Gold, where are you off to?" she called out.

"Not a place that is of any importance to you, dearie," he shouted behind his back.

"Can you spare a minute?"

"'fraid not."

"Not even if I give you a small sample of my latest?"

Gold stopped in his steps and spun on his heel to face her. "Well, perhaps I could delay my business f-for a few seconds. Especially seeing as how I've discovered in my many years of servitude, that just as a good man is hard to find, it's best to make it hard for a good man to find you once you've found him. Makes 'em want you more... 'Course when it comes to men, I've never had any problems getting them good and har-"

"You're making appointments now. Who'd you land, a prince?" Queenie interrupted him.

"Strange that you should say prince, Queenie. No, more like ironic." His voice was low and melodic and his fingers tapped absently against a fallen tree trunk, as if a piano.

"Spare me the lies. I'm not in the mood." Queenie shook her head, moving aside and drawing her legs to her chest, exposing her bare feet. She reached into a basket and removed a small bottle. Rumpelstiltskin took the offered seat beside her, and in taking the bottle from her grip, held it to the light, surveying the soft pink contents inside.

"Your latest, dare I ask what it is?"

"It is soon be one of your favorites."

Rumple cocked his head to one side, awaiting her next word, and watched as a calm smile began to possess her lips.

"Have you nothing further to say?" he questioned, eyeing her at length.

"No. Nothing," Regina muttered, turning her face from him.

"Oh, but thou dost deceive me. Tell me, dearie, what gnaws on thy delicate nerves? Eh?"

Queenie looked to the ground and sighed. "I need to ask for the favor you owe me."

Rumple gave her a steely look. "And what exactly is it that you require, m'lady?"

Regina searched her basket for a mirror. Holding it to Rumple's face she conjured the image of a man. "This is Killian Jones. He works for Whale. I need you to find him."

Hearing Whale's name made Rumple flinch. Victor Whale ran the land's most profitable brothel and Rumpelstiltskin hated him with the very fiber of his being.

"I see. And, what, pray tell, am I to do with him once I've found him?"

"Just make sure he gets this." She produced a small wooden box from her apron pocket.

"Oh, is that all." Rumpel took the thing from her hand. "Does this," he rolled it over, "contain anything he's sure to get testy about?"

"No. You have my word."

"And- a- that's all I need." He raised to his feet. "I shall set about completing this little task tomorrow. For tonight, Queenie, I am deeply burdened. Why, even as I speak, I can envision my sweet prince longingly awaiting my embrace." He placed a hand over his heart. "So to you I bid you adieu." He bowed, flipping his coat tails out.

"Drink what I gave you before you see him."

Rumpel looked at her, wheels turning in his head before realization dawned on him. "Oh! So it's one of those potions, eh?" He gestured rudely.

Queenie didn't answer, she forced herself to smile, but quickly she let the change fade once the bustled backside of Rumpelstiltskin's jacket came into view.

"As if I need it," he scoffed, out of earshot. He placed the bottle in a small bag about his waist before he crept around the corner. _Still, _he thought, _no reason to let it go to waste. _


End file.
